


Advice From a Dead Man

by jebbypal



Category: Firefly
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-25
Updated: 2006-03-25
Packaged: 2017-10-10 05:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jebbypal/pseuds/jebbypal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dead man says his piece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advice From a Dead Man

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I'm using the alias of Malm for Book in this fic since it's very far pre-series.

The old man is sitting quietly on a fountain in the garden when Malm finds him. He's been tracking this enemy of the government for several days and is weary of overly kind townsmen that have tried to protect the old fool. If he had his way, and more freedom in his orders, several of them would join the codger in the grave.

The old man's head bows, as if in prayer, then he rises and turns to face Malm. "I've been waiting for you. You'll never make it in this business if you're slow," he says. Bending, he picks up a cane and starts down the path. "Come on, young fellow, you've waited this long, you can at least wait till I get to my home. Less questions if I kill myself there rather than here, no?"

Malm's hand twitches beside his holster. It would be so easy to put a bullet in the fool's head and leave this god forsaken planet now, but he doesn't have that option. The old buzzard had been encouraging the moon's settlers to stop trade with the inner planets for months. Elections would be held in several months time, and the inner planets couldn't risk this dried-up soap box speaker damaging the chances of their preferred, and well funded, candidates.

The man pauses in front of a worn down shack and looks across the dusty road where several skinny children are playing. "You're frustrated, aren't you? It fairly rolls off you. Better to learn to control your emotions than to be at their mercy. Tell me, what do you think of my home?"

Malm can't keep the disgust out of his eyes. The backwardness of it only makes him more anxious to leave this place and return to the inner planets where life is more than waiting to die. If these people would only show the proper respect to those who paid for the terraforming and their migrations, the inner planets might be able to give them enough materials to make life more comfortable.

"Youth, I do remember it, you know. Always wanting something new, always wanting to be in the middle of everything. But that fades with age. In time, you start to yearn for independence. The ability to decide how you want to live and fuck anyone that disagrees with you. Then that ebbs, and all you want is dignity - dignity for yourself and those you care about." The man nods to the kids playing. "I doubt they've ever tasted meat in their entire life. Just lived off those damn protein bars, it's all the food available in this damned place since us stupid settlers can't be trusted to know how to hunt without destroying the eco-system. That's all I've been trying to say, Mister. We just want to be recognized as the adults we know we are."

Malm waits. For all of his frustration and disdain, he is good at being patient. Eventually, his enemy shakes his head in defeat, and walks the rest of the way to the shack he calls home. His hand on the knob, he looks Malm in the eyes again. "I hope that one day you live long enough to agree with me. I pray that if you do, you can live with the deeds you've done."

His piece said, he enters his house. Malm follows and death soon joins him.


End file.
